She stared at him, open-mouthed, the breath leaving her body for a second. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She knew better and wished for more. Her fault.
“I have to.”
“Of course you do,” she said, forcing herself to sound as if she didn’t care. “Go on then.” To reinforce her point, she put her foot against his leg and pushed as hard as she could.
He didn’t even have the good grace to look ashamed. Dressing quickly, he searched for his shirt in the rumpled sheets, his gaze never rising to meet hers. He snagged a sleeve and pulled it and draped the shirt over his shoulders as he made his way out the door.
After he left, she went into the bathroom and threw up. Then she lay down on the floor, her cheek against the cool tile, and told herself none of it mattered. She had known better.
If reliable Howard had been there, he would have been right next to her on the floor, a protective paw on her arm.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Make Me a Match
Episode Eleven
Parents and Pretense
“We are pleased to be back in our contestants’ hometown of Seattle,” Rob began. “And what a beautiful city it is.” He swept his hand behind him to indicate the Space Needle. A drop of rain splashed in his eye, and then another. “Hold on.” He swiped his hand across his eye, turning to Luke. “Is my makeup ruined?”
He signaled for the camera to stop and stepped forward to Rob, giving his face a once-over. “No, you’re fine.”
“Is that all it does here, rain?”
“This time of year, yes, I think so.” It was only sprinkling, but Rob owned melodrama like a sobbing soap opera diva.
“How do people live like this?” He shook his head. On the way over, he’d made a girly fuss that he was not drip dry, thank you very much, so the weather had better cooperate.
Luke glanced upward, where dark clouds gathered. “Let’s wrap this up quick. Our first meet and greet starts in an hour.”
“Shit,” Rob muttered. “Okay, go.” He plastered a smile on his face and started over. “We are excited to be back in our contestants’ hometown of Seattle.” Once again, he swept a hand toward the Space Needle. “And what a beautiful city it is.”
Luke heard the subtle grinding of Rob’s bleached teeth.
“We are looking forward to today,” Rob went on, “when the most important people in our contestants’ lives—their families and friends—will gather to meet their perfect matches. These people won’t mince words. They’ll tell us exactly what they think. And at the end of our show comes the most important part. When you, America, will cast your vote for the couple you believe is indeed perfectly matched.” Rob grasped his hands in front of him and directed his earnest gaze into the camera lens. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait. So let’s get started.”
“And…cut.”
Luke breathed a sigh of relief and hustled Rob over to the van before the skies opened up.
He opened his mouth, and Luke beat him to the punch. “Your makeup and hair were perfect. And your delivery…right on. I’m telling you, no one else is as good at this as you. No one.”
Rob murmured a gracious thank you and leaned back against the leather seat, closing his eyes against the offending weather.
Luke turned his gaze out the window, allowing the grayness of the day to engulf him as his mind zeroed back to the memory of holding Charley in his arms. Stupid, stupid asshole. The first time he’d been drunk. An excuse, if not a reason, but the other night, he’d been in control of every decision he’d made. He’d known what he was doing. What the fuck was wrong with him?
Glancing at Rob, Luke thought, one more reason he’d be glad when the show was over. He couldn’t wait to be done with handling the fragile ego of a forty-five-year-old man whose biggest fear in life was going bald.
Luke had never met Charley’s family. She was from a small town three hours away from their university, and while they’d been together, her family had not come to visit. In a weird twist of odds and probabilities, her mom had been planning to come for Mom’s Weekend a week after Luke had left school.
Families were scary. Expectations went with meeting them. Expectations he hadn’t been able to handle.
When he walked into the private room of the restaurant where the show had arranged the meeting, Charley and her family were already there, standing in a corner.
Her mother was an older version of Charley, slender with short blonde hair and fine features. Her face in contrast, though, looked world-weary and worried. One hand darted from her purse to Charley’s arm, back to the purse then to her daughter’s arm again, as if she couldn’t decide where it belonged.
Charley’s father was tall and serious-looking, his hair graying at the temples. When he blinked, his eyes closed a second longer than most people, giving off the appearance of strained patience.
Next to them stood a man who had to be her older brother. Luke remembered her telling him about Brett, a former high school football star who had taken numerous hits to the head, been knocked out several times, and still gone back into every game. He’d been hospitalized once, but not until after the game was over and the damage had been done.
Spotting Luke now, Brett scowled and put an arm around Charley’s narrow shoulders.
Luke took a deep breath and walked over to them, his hand outstretched. “You must be Charley’s family.”
She nodded. “This is my dad, Stan. My mother, Grace. And my brother, Brett. Everyone, this is Luke Dean.” She hesitated. “One of the show’s producers.”
“Nice to meet you.” Luke shook the hand of each family member before he allowed himself to relax. They had no reaction to him other than in his role as producer. She hadn’t told them anything. Not even about them in college.
So what the fuck was the disappointment making his shoulders sag? If he didn’t know better, he’d think some part of him wanted her family to believe he meant something more than a business relationship to her.
He needed a vacation. A long-ass one.
He went into producer mode as the crew began setting up camera and sound. “Do you have any questions about how this will work?” he asked the family.
“When does Marc get here?” Charley asked.
“Who’s Marc?” Brett asked.
Charley put a gentle hand on his arm. “He’s the guy I’m dating. On the show. The one you’ll meet, with his family, today.”
“Oh.” Brett still sounded uncertain.
“He should be here any time,” Luke answered. “But we don’t want him to come in until everything’s set up. Our host will be here shortly, too.”
Charley nodded. “We’re ready.”
Every time he saw her, she looked even more beautiful than the time before. Today, her eyes were more green than gray. And that black leather jacket, low-cut black top, pale yellow skirt with so many layers it seemed to float around her, and black heels with a strap around her ankle helped give her a tough-but-soft vibe that had his dick straining at his jeans.
He knew he had no right, but he’d give anything for it to be just her and him right now. No one else. In that big bed back at the house in L.A. Tumbled together in a tangled mess of skin, sweat, and heat. He’d kiss her until neither one of them could breathe without the other, plunge deep inside her until—
“Is there any particular place you want us to be?” Charley’s father asked.
Good thing Charley’s father couldn’t read minds or Luke would be a bloody mess on the floor. I love your daughter, sir.
Where the fuck had that come from? Luke did. Not. Love her. Did he—? “No, Stan. You’re good where you are. Stay there.” Even he heard his voice shake.
Charley shot him a quizzical look.
He ignored it, drawing his shoulders up and clearing his throat. “I do want you to know that we will ask you each to step outside for a few minutes while we talk with you, uh, on camera.” He was not an uh guy. He never had been. Clean sentences, no t
ripping over words. He loved her. Well, hadn’t he always? That wasn’t ever really a question. “Don’t be nervous. Just say what’s on your mind.”
“I don’t know about that,” Grace said, her eyes bright. “I’m already nervous. Our whole town will be watching this.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Charley reassured. “Just forget the cameras and be yourself. And Marc is a great guy, so I’m sure his family will be, too. You’ll like him. And them.” She looked away, not meeting Luke’s eyes.
“Okay, honey. If you say so.” Charley’s mom squeezed her daughter’s arm.
Marc was a great guy, Luke silently agreed, and there was nothing Luke wanted more right now than to get the hell out of this room and find a shot of something that burned his throat and his longing for Charley at the same time.
The woman he wanted, needed, to be with was with someone else. Someone else he’d helped arrange for her to be with. Sanctioned, even.
Karma. Was. A. Bitch.
And yet, he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve this. So he walked away. Again.
Charley watched him leave.
Rob Smiley entered the room, walking over to Charley’s parents and brother with the ease of someone who anticipated universal admiration. “I’m Rob,” he said to her father, extending his hand.
“Stan,” her father said. “Nice to meet you, Rob. What is it you do here?”
Charley stifled a giggle as Rob blanched.
“I’m the host of the show,” he answered stiffly.
“Oh, right,” her mom said. “I think maybe you were on a game show I used to watch.”
“Million Dollar Word,” Rob said, ducking his chin as if he could ever be modest.
“That’s it. I quit watching, though.”
Rob’s expression tensed. “I see.”
“It was a good show, though.” Mom looked at Charley, her expression conveying that she knew she’d said something wrong, but wasn’t sure what it was.
Before Charley could reassure her, Rob began talking again. “Marc and his family will be here in a couple of minutes. I’ll say a few words and handle introductions. Then we’ll be off and running.”
“Who’s Marc?” Brett asked.
Charley whispered the answer in his ear. Brett’s short-term memory loss had worsened over the last couple of years.
“So are we all set?” Rob asked.
They nodded in unison.
Luke came back into the room and took his place with the crew, out of camera range. His eyes met Charley’s for an instant and then he focused on the door. Charley followed his gaze.
Marc entered first; a small man, likely his father, was right behind with a kindly looking woman and four people closer to Marc’s age, probably some of his siblings. His father was several inches shorter and rounder than his wife and children. He had a huge grin and gave off a good-natured, friendly aura, even from across the room. She doubted much ever bothered this man.
Marc’s mother was tall, with shoulders that curved forward and a strained expression that said she would rather be anywhere but in this room. She looked gently weathered, as any woman who’d borne nine children might. Marc had her eyes.
His siblings—two women and two men—were outgoing and boisterous, chatting loudly to each other as they walked in. One woman with curly brown hair split off from the group and ducked around chairs and the long table in the room to give Charley a big hug. “Hello,” she enthused. “You must be Charley, the one Marc’s told us about.”
Charley felt herself relax. “That’s me,” she said lightly. “And this is my family.” As she introduced them, the rest of Marc’s family flocked toward her, all but his mother talking at once and over each other.
When they moved on to her family, Charley slipped out of the circle to stand by Marc, who was observing the meeting with a smile and shake of his head.
“They’re great,” she said.
“They’re loud,” he replied. “And opinionated. But I love ’em.”
Rob cleared his throat, but no one in the families paid attention. He tried again, clinking a spoon against an empty glass. No luck. “Can we do this again?” he pleaded with Luke. “I was supposed to introduce them all.”
Luke shook his head. “Just go with it. Take it from here.”
Rob changed tactics, now acting as a shepherd, physically moving people toward the table. They traveled as one with Charley’s family, looking alarmed, in the center.
Marc’s father picked up a spoon and rapped it against a glass. This time, people quieted. “Everyone, let’s sit down and get to know one another.”
The Renne family disbursed quickly, taking their places around the table. The Stephens family stood in place, uncertain what to do next.
“Right here,” instructed Marc’s dad. “Sit.” He indicated chairs next to him. Charley could see how he had managed his nine children. Charley’s mom, dad, and brother did as they were told. “And Marc and Charley, you also sit.”
Obediently, they sat down. The cameras moved around them.
Rob positioned himself behind Marc and Charley. “The Renne and Stephens families meet for the first time,” he announced.
Marc’s father’s gaze flickered up to Rob and then back down to Marc and Charley, as if Rob hadn’t spoken. “Charley,” he said. “What is it you like about this big goofball?”
Goofball. Interesting. “Let’s see.” She turned to Marc, determined to give him a big sincere smile. “His family?”
The Rennes laughed.
“Good answer,” said his dad. “What else?”
“There’s so much to like about Marc. But I’ll try to narrow it down.” She pondered that. “He’s kind, adventurous, loyal, and steady.” True, but it occurred to her that she could also be describing a Cocker Spaniel.
Thank God no one seemed to pick up on that. Instead, there was plenty of head nodding around the table.
“And Marc,” said his dad. “What about you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I like that I’m all those things.”
More laughter, then his dad’s expression turned stern, though he continued to smile. No easy feat. “About Charley.”
“Oh, Charley.”
One of Marc’s brothers reached over the table to mess up his hair. “Stop.” Marc brushed it back with his fingers. “I like that she’s as competitive as I am…”
Murmurs of approval from his family.
“…and she’s gorgeous…”
More approval, this time with vigorous head nods.
“…that she likes bowling and college sports. Even though she roots for the wrong team.”
A collective intake of air from the Rennes. “She’s not—” “No way—”
“Yes,” Marc said sadly. “She’s a Cougar.”
Tongues clicked and heads shook. “What will we do during Apple Cup?” asked one of Marc’s sisters. “She’ll be cheering for them.”
“And they will be beating you.” Charley grinned.
The murmurs turned into a mild roar. “Go Huskies,” Marc’s other brother yelled.
Charley’s dad raised his voice above the others. “We’re proud of our daughter.”
Surprised faces turned to him. “Of course you are,” replied Marc’s father. The other Rennes chimed in with their agreement.
Charley’s mother put a supportive hand on her husband’s arm. Brett frowned and said, “My sister’s the best.”
“Thanks, guys,” Charley said. She lifted her glass. “To family.”
Glasses raised and clinked. “To family.”
Waiters came into the room, bearing large platters of food. The level of chatter rose as both families spoke at once. Charley’s mom turned her attention to Marc’s mother and the women bent their heads toward each other, talking intently.
Luke motioned to Charley’s dad, who came forward, patting Charley on the shoulder as he passed by. She grabbed his hand and held it, just for a second, then watched as Luke led him out the door, pr
esumably to an impromptu Kiss and Confess site.
On the other side of her, Marc’s sister began telling her stories about her youngest brother. He’d been a prankster, she said, and had even once hid in her date’s car, popping up from the backseat when her date had leaned in to kiss her. “I just about killed him then,” she confided. “But now I like him.”
Meanwhile, Charley’s mother had left Marc’s mother to come up to his side and talk with him. “You’ll never find anyone better than Charley,” she said. It came out sounding vaguely like a threat.
Really? Mom? Charley felt as though she were on the auction block.
It was too much. Way too much. And Luke wasn’t in the room to make it better. She’d awakened alone this morning and had spent so much time holding on to the pillow where his head had lain, she’d nearly been late for her plane back to Seattle.
She wanted, really wanted Marc to be the one. All she had to do was convince her heart, which was firmly cemented to another man.
“Excuse me for a minute,” she said to Marc’s sister, who had just finished a story about him hiding all of her makeup before another big date. “I’ll be right back. I’m so sorry.”
She pushed her chair back and made a hasty exit. Thankfully, one camera was trained on Marc and her mother and the other was out in the hall. Neither caught her leaving. She turned down a hallway, but the kitchen was at the end of it, so she went a different way, finding a quiet spot where she could think. Then she heard a voice, her father’s voice.
“I am concerned his family might overwhelm my daughter,” he said, sounding as though he chose his words carefully.
“Why is that?” she heard Luke ask.
“They are a large group, aren’t they? Able to take over a room. And our Charley isn’t one who will fight to be heard.”
He was right. Absolutely, depressingly, right.
In that moment, her life came into focus, as though she’d been making her way through a blurry forest and slipped on a pair of glasses that revealed her to be walking in a city.
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